


He Came from the Sea

by Starla (Starla_Larla)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Excellent, Other, Selkies, i did this for the ggbb and barely went over the word minimum, selkie!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starla_Larla/pseuds/Starla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arin is a (moody) photographer whose latest assignment is to travel to the small Irish island of Inisheer and take photos of the wildlife. Turns out, there isn't much "wildlife" to speak of, and the whole trip is just completely dull...until Arin and the innkeeper of the only inn on the island, Jack, find a naked, silent stranger on the beach with nothing but a seal pelt.</p><p>Turns out, Inisheer isn't quite as boring as Arin once thought.</p><p>***</p><p>Warnings: some violence/injury, (a boat wreck, seals attacking each other) and some occasional swearing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**-Jack-**

 

When I was little, my grandmother used to tell me stories.

 

Stories of the mythical creatures that used to inhabit Ireland and, according to her, still do, after all this time.

 

It’s been a long time since she’s told me the tales of the fae, but they’ve still stuck with me, though all of these years.

 

One in particular always stood out to me, though.

 

My grandmother told me that, in the waters surrounding our home–the tiny island known as Inis Oírr–there lived a clan of mythical beings known as selkies. Seals in the water, breathtakingly beautiful humans on the land, most of these creatures were peaceful...but not the ones in our waters. No, according to her, these were bitter creatures, turned so by the humans that hunted them mercilessly for their pelts and showed no signs of stopping.

 

She told me to stay away from the water.

 

I believed her back then—she was never a liar—but I still went into the water, always without incident. I never even really saw any seals.

 

So the stories of the selkies faded into a myth in my mind, and I went on with my life.

 

But then…

 

Then I met  _ him _ .

 

Then I wasn't so sure they were just stories anymore.


	2. Arin Hanson, Moody Photographer

**-Arin-**

 

I shuffle into the inn’s lobby, still bleary with sleep. Jack, the guy that runs the place (third generation owner, apparently), is already busy making breakfast—a ‘complimentary service’ that I and the other two inn residents have insisted isn't necessary.

 

The inn is the only one on the island, and is actually fairly tiny, more like a house than an inn. The rooms are cozy, if a bit drafty, and the ‘lobby’ is really more like a kitchen. Two other people have rented out rooms here: Barry, who lives here, and Ross, the traveling artist from Australia.

 

“Top of the mornin’ to ya!” Jack calls as I enter the kitchen. He gives me his signature grin and a little wave. I just stare blankly at him in response.

 

He isn't deterred, turning his attention back to whisking eggs. “Didja sleep well?” he asks, still smiling.

 

“I didn't go to bed until four, and it's six right now,” I drawl. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, looks like someone’s in a mood,” Barry, who is also the local shopkeeper, muses, appearing from somewhere behind me and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

 

I kindly give Barry the finger, then sit at the little table set up just outside of the kitchen and glance at the newspaper. Nothing of note has happened in the last week, and...I’m honestly not surprised in the least. Not much goes on in an island of 250, after all.

 

I sigh, shutting my eyes. I really, really don't feel like going out and trying to spot some grey seals or puffins for the nature magazine I work for (think National Geographic but smaller, and badly written), but it's my job, so I don't exactly have a choice.

 

A quick glance out the window reveals that, yet again, it's foggy and rainy and overall awful weather outside. Great. A+. Exactly what I need for a good day.

 

Jack sets a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me, then gives me a thumbs-up and goes to prepare Barry’s food. There's still no sign of Ross, which is no surprise because he keeps mostly to himself. Ross once told me that his privacy adds ‘an air of mystery’ and ‘intrigue’ to him, but I think he just has hermiting tendencies.

 

I salt my eggs heavily and eat them, scowling all the while, then grab my camera, raincoat, and boots from my room and leave.

 

“Good luck!” Jack calls, waving.

 

I ignore him.

 

\-----

 

Inis Oírr—Inisheer, to most—is a tiny, tiny island off the coast of Ireland. It's a dingy place, the smallest and easternmost in a chain of islands called the Oileáin Árainn: Aran Islands. You could walk its length in less than a day, and in the end be twice as pissed at the world than you were when you started. I, Arin Hanson the Unfortunate Photographer, was sent here because it's apparently “a good place to spot coastal wildlife for this article we’re doing” and “at least you’re not going to an active volcano like Jeff is, so be thankful!”.

 

If you heard loud sighing just now, it was probably me.

 

I traipse through knee-high grass, my scowl never leaving my face as I head towards the west shoreline. I can see the island Inis Meáin in the distance, and beyond it, the hazy shape of Inis Mór, a far bigger island and frankly, far more interesting.

 

Swaths of fog cloud the surrounding ocean and part of the shore, encasing the distant islands in an increasingly thicker haze. It would be described by more...let's say  _ creative _ people...as ethereal or otherworldly. To me, it's just a nuisance.

 

I reach the sandy shoreline, which has turned vaguely muddy due to the ever-present humidity. I make a face as my boots squelch into it, but continue towards the waterline, ever the brave and optimistic adventurer. (Not.)

 

A quick scan of my surroundings reveals that, no, there are no grey seals or puffins to be seen. My superiors would not be happy with me doing a five-minute excursion and calling it a day, so reluctantly, I pick a direction and start walking, on the lookout for animals.

 

About...oh, I'd say an hour and a half or so of suffering later, I'm without a single good photo and I'm soaked from the mist. A chilly wind is biting at me through my thin t-shirt and jeans, and I’m really regretting not bringing a jacket. Stupid incorrect weather forecast. Why haven’t I learned yet not to trust a one-eyed, 80-year-old sailor when it comes to the weather?

 

I shiver, and decide right then and there that I’m going back to the inn. No way in  _ hell  _ am I about to spend my entire day traipsing through the “wilds” of Inisheer for a photo opportunity that may or may not present itself.

 

I turn around, and come face-to-face with Jack.

 

“Jesus Christ!” I snap, leaping back a foot or so. Jack flinches a little at my shout, then breaks into that easy grin of his.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just...I trailed you a little because you left before I could give you tea! You walk really fast, y’know. You should probably calm down.”

 

I stare at him blankly. “...Tea?” I ask, ignoring everything else he’s said.

 

“Yeah!” He nods enthusiastically, and holds out a thermos. “I thought you’d get cold out here, so I made you tea. Green tea, with loads of honey, which I know you like.”

 

I stare at the thermos now, then shake my head. “I’m fine.”

 

He looks a little disappointed. “Oh. Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll just–”

 

I hear something suddenly. It sounds...like a whimper, or somebody crying a little. “Shut up,” I hiss, pressing my palm to Jack’s mouth. He looks indignant, but doesn’t protest as he notices me looking around. The mist is thick, too thick to see anything other than what’s right in front of my eyes. I stare to my left, where I heard the noise.

 

“Hello?” I call.

 

Nothing...then another quiet whimper.

 

I walk towards it.

 

“Arin, what are you doing??” Jack stage-whispers to me. I ignore him, calling out again to see if the...thing...replies. I hear Jack traipsing after me.

 

There’s a different sound this time. Louder. It sounds like whatever is making it is trying to form words, but can’t.

 

A vague shape comes into view from the mist. As I (and an annoyingly loud Jack) approach, it comes into focus as...a man.

 

A very  _ naked  _ man, that is.

 

Jack stops behind me, panting a little, then catches sight of the stranger and sucks in a sharp breath. I just stare. The man is thin, lanky, and pale, with a mess of curly brown hair on his head and a line of stubble on his jaw. He’s looking away from us.

 

“Are you...okay?” Jack asks, hesitant.

 

The man glances over at us. He has droopy brown eyes and thin lips, and a scar in his right eyebrow. He tilts his head ever so slightly at the words, and his lips part; he pauses, and closes his mouth, looking down. A greasy-looking, greyish-brown thing is clutched in his hands. It looks like a pelt of some sort.

 

“Can you talk?” I ask him. He shakes his head, hair bouncing around and frizzing around his cheekbones with the movement. “Okay...can you spell your name, though?”

 

He thinks, then nods, and starts drawing something in the sand. Jack and I watch as he sloppily spells something out.

 

“...Dan?” Jack reads. ‘Dan’ nods again, and Jack immediately launches into Mom Friend Mode.

 

“What are you doing out here? Did your boat sink or something? Are you hurt? Are you cold?? What–”

 

His questions come out rapid-fire. Dan looks startled, and I just roll my eyes. “Calm down,” I scold. Jack shuts up, glaring at me again.

 

He shakes his head in irritation and looks back at Dan. “Here,” he says, reaching out a hand. “I'll help you stand, and we’ll get you somewhere warm, okay? I'll get you some clothes, and you can stay in a room at my inn.”

 

Dan just looks confused, but accepts the help while I stand and watch with arms crossed. Jack’s gentle with him, giving a curious glance down at the pelt clutched in Dan’s hands but not asking about it.

 

“Come on, Arin,” Jack says, beginning to lead Dan away from the shore. Dan seems a little clumsy, like he’s not used to walking.

 

Maybe he’s just waterlogged. I don’t know.

 

I sigh and follow them home, scowling all the while.


	3. Arin Isn't Happy

**-Jack-**

 

There’s no sign of Ross or Barry–the two other residents in my inn–when we get back.

 

Of course there isn’t. Barry’s at his convenience store and Ross is out painting.

 

Which is good, anyway. Less questions to answer, and all.

 

I lead Dan inside, one arm around his shoulders to keep him steady, and have him sit at the small wooden table set up in the middle of the lobby-slash-kitchen. “I’ll go see if I’ve got any spare clothes for you,” I tell him, then glance at Arin.

 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I say, a little flatly. He stares at me, and, satisfied,  I set down the now-cold thermos of tea on the counter and walk off into my room to find some clothes.

 

I dig through a drawer containing my clothing, and find an old t-shirt and some jeans.

 

I walk back out to the kitchen/lobby, where Arin’s giving Dan a death glare and Dan’s just looking around with wide eyes like he’s never seen a kitchen before.

 

...Maybe he hasn’t.

 

I give him the shirt and jeans, and his attention shifts to them in his lap. He blinks a few times, then clutches his...pelt?...a little tighter, still staring at the clothes like he expects them to do something.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Arin asks, tone sharp.

 

Dan looks up at him, then looks over at me, blinking innocently again. He gives a little shrug.

 

Arin groans and turns away, rolling his eyes again. I just give Dan a patient smile. “Here. I’ll...we can leave, if you want, so you can...figure out the clothing situation. Okay?”

 

Dan shrugs again, and I grab Arin by the elbow and lead him out of the room.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss, pulling him off to the side.

 

Arin shrugs my hand away and glares. “I’m not a goddamn idiot,” he said. “I don’t pick perfect strangers up off the beach and take them home with me!”

 

“He was naked and alone, Arin!” I snap. “He looked terrified! What else was I supposed to do?”   
  
“Call the police?” Arin suggests harshly.

 

“I…” I pause. “No, Arin, that's...what do you think  _ they  _ would do? Put him in jail??”

 

Arin cuts me another glare. “Probably, because they're not  _ fucking stupi _ —”

 

He’s cut off as the door opens and Dan looks in timidly. We both turn to look at him; he’s managed to put on the sweater and pants and is now standing there barefoot and shivering a little. The...pelt?...is still clutched in his hands.

 

“...Hi,” I say, trying to smile a bit and act normal. Dan blinks at me, wide-eyed and looking innocent.

 

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then makes a soft noise and closes his mouth. He looks away, eyes catching my finance book open on a nearby table.

 

“Do you want to write something down?” I ask.

 

Dan nods and cautiously shuffles forward, taking the book and turning it over in his hands. He sets down the pelt and starts running his fingers over the pages of the book, curious.

 

“I’ll get you a pen,” I tell him, and glare subtly at Arin as I turn my back. Arin flips me off.

 

I hand Dan a pen, and he clicks it a few times, mesmerized. Arin and I both watch him as he starts to painstakingly write something down.

 

After about two minutes of shaky writing, he shows us the page.

 

‘My home is the sea.’

 

Arin and I stare blankly, then Arin blurts out, “What the actual fuck?”

 

I elbow him in the side, mortified at his behavior, but the corners of Dan’s mouth curl up into an easy smile and he laughs quietly. Really, he more ‘shakes silently’ than ‘laughs quietly’, but it gets across well enough.

 

“Yeah,” the gesture seems to say, “I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

 

Arin looks at me, an expression of complete and utter confusion and annoyance scrawled on his face. “Jack, what the fuck. Can we––can we put him back on the beach? Please?”

 

“No, Arin,” I say, like I’m scolding a child. I might as well be, considering how much of a jerk Arin’s been lately. “We’re going to help him, like decent human beings.”

 

“Have you ever considered he maybe doesn’t NEED help?” Arin asks, an edge in his voice.

 

Dan’s eyebrows raise, and he sets his mouth in a thin line as he starts to write something else. He shows us the paper: ‘Looks like somebody is salty today.’

 

I burst out laughing, and Arin’s face turns red. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then shuts it again and looks away.

 

“Whatever,” he says flatly, turning away. “I'm going into town.”

 

“Have fun,” I start to tell him, but he's already gone by the time I've opened my mouth.


	4. When Arin Met Barry...

**-Arin-**

 

“Hi again, Arin! What's up?”

 

Barry wastes no time in greeting me as soon as I step through the door of his convenience store and the little bell ‘ding’s above me. I ignore him, scanning the shelves instead of bothering with starting a conversation.

 

This is the only store in town that sells groceries. I think it used to be a house or something, I don't know. It smells old—not unpleasant, just...old, I guess. Which comes as no surprise considering most of the building is made of wood. There's shelves set up in the middle of the room to act as aisles, with dairy and meat sections along the far side of the store and produce on the right wall.

 

There's an old wooden counter/bar running along the left wall as soon as you come in. I guess this building used to be a tavern or pub or something, because the counter’s been here for ages and there’s even names and stuff scratched in the wood.

 

Barry is by the cash register right now, counting out money, and he seems a bit offended that I didn't say hi to him.

 

His cousin, Kevin, is sweeping by the canned soup aisle. He's shorter than Barry, with longer, darker hair, no beard, and light brown skin. I think he’s the only other person who works here.

 

“Why so salty today?” he asks, stopping his sweeping to look up at me.

 

I clench my teeth and sigh heavily. “Oh, I don’t know,” I say. “A naked stranger washed up on the beach, and Jack, being the idiot without common sense he is, decided it would be a wonderful idea to take him home. Keep in mind that we have no idea who he is, except for a first name. No idea where he’s from. And all he had with him was some weird...pelt, or something. Jack is just so...stupid, sometimes!”

 

Kevin frowns and looks at Barry. “Didn't you tell me something once about strange people washing up on the shore with seal skins?”

 

Barry nods. “Mmhm,” he says, continuing to count out money. “There's an old legend about these things called selkies around here. They're basically seals that can shed their pelts and turn into humans. Normally, I guess they're supposed to be pretty gentle, but like...the ones by our island got cursed or something, so they can only turn human a certain number of times and they got really pissed about it. I dunno. Someone got attacked by a group of seals in the ‘70s, so that’s probably where the ‘violent selkies’ thing started.”

 

He looks up. “Selkies have been around as a legend for a long time, though. I’d ask Jack about them, because his grandma apparently told him a bunch of stories about them when he was a kid. There's a rumor she was one herself, but”—he chuckles, shaking his head and going back to counting—“I really doubt it.”

 

Something in his tone makes me think that no, he really doesn’t doubt it.

 

“He never told me anything about...seal people,” I say slowly. “Not that I’d believe him if he did, though.”

 

“Jack’s smarter than you think he is, Arin,” Barry says, tapping the side of his head. “Sure, he has his head in the clouds sometimes, but he’s not stupid. And he’s not a liar, either. So if he tells you something about seal people, I’d listen, even if it sounds really outlandish, because you never know. Maybe he’s right.”

 

I snort. “Sure, Barry. Maybe.”

 

I leave without buying anything.

 


	5. Jack and Dan Become Friends!

**-Dan-**

 

I shouldn't be here.

 

That much is certain. I don't belong here.

 

I don't belong back home, either, though, so I don't really have much of a choice.

 

I wrap the seal skin around my shoulders, not liking the feel of these human clothes. It's not uncomfortable, exactly, just...odd. I'm too used to my other form. It's been years since I've had fingers, had legs.

 

Years since I've had a voice.

 

“Are you doing okay, Dan?” Jack asks, walking up behind me and carrying a plate of pan-fried fish.

 

The scent of it makes my mouth water. I turn back from the window I was looking out of and nod at him, eyeing the food in his hands eagerly.

 

He notices, and smiles warmly, handing me the plate. “Yeah, I thought you might be hungry,” he says, as I ignore the fork he provided and start biting into the fish. “I thought you might like fish, too. I mean, I know you selkies do.”

 

I stop eating and look up abruptly, mouth half-full and eyes wide.

 

Jack seems taken aback. “Oh—I'm sorry. Are you not...am I wrong?”

 

I shake my head slowly, eyes not leaving his face. I swallow and set down the fish, giving him a questioning look.

 

“My grandma was a selkie,” Jack says, a bit quieter than usual. “At least, that's what she told me, when I was little.”

 

I blink at him.

 

“She said she gave it up,” he continues. “Life...out there. My grandpa, he was human—they met, and fell in love. He didn't take her seal skin or anything, not like the legends. They just...were a good pair, I guess.” He shrugs. “Then they had my mum, then she and my human dad had me. Duh.

 

“I used to believe her when she’d tell me stories of the selkies, she even had a seal pelt that she'd show me, but then, after a while...I didn't believe her anymore. I thought she was just making it up. But I guess not, huh?”

 

He looks away a little. “My mum never...she never changed, if you're wondering. She didn't have a seal skin or anything. She probably could have...left...if she wanted to, but I don't think my grandma would have let her, anyway. Or me, for that matter, but I'm probably too human to change even if I wanted to. Although, I think I still have her seal pelt in a closet somewhere.”

 

Jack splays the fingers on his left hand, holding it up for me to see. “But look! I've kind of got webbed fingers. More than normal. My mum has them too. So does my grandma. And you, too. A mark of the seal folk, yeah?”

 

He gives a little chuckle. I don't laugh.

 

“...Anyway.” He senses my seriousness, then, and lowers his hand. “I...why are you here? Instead of...y’know…”

 

He looks out the window, to where the ocean is visible as a greyish haze on the horizon.

 

Why am I here? I want to say. I'm here because I'm not welcome out there. I'm too nice. I don't hate humans, I'm not afraid of humans like I “should be”. I'm here because I was forced from my own home.

 

But I can't speak, so I shrug instead.

 

Jack pauses, a bit unsure, then shrugs. “Okay, then,” he says. “That's all right. You don’t have to tell me.”

 

I tilt my head a little, and he laughs, realizing. “Oh, right. You  _ can’t _ tell me. Sorry! I keep forgetting.”

 

He shakes his head, starting to walk away. “Good job, Jack,” he says to himself. Then, to me: “If you need anything, I’ll just be in the other room.”

 

I nod, and he ducks out of the room.


	6. Dan Gets Lonely

**-Arin-**

 

I get back to Jack’s inn at around 11:30 at night, only to find Dan gazing out the window.

 

I say nothing as I head to my room, passing him by without so much as a second glance. Not like he'd reply if I said anything to him, anyway.

 

I can already hear Jack snoring halfway across the building. What...just what a great sound to fall asleep to. Absolutely a fantastic noise.

 

As I start walking down the hall to my room, I feel like I'm being watched, and turn around to find just that: Dan watching me intently.

 

“What?” I ask, matching his gaze.

 

Dan shrugs, still watching me.

 

I raise an eyebrow, then turn away when I get no response. “Weird,” I mutter, thoroughly creeped out.

 

I get about halfway down the hall when I hear soft footsteps behind me. “Stop following me,” I snap, whirling around to see Dan.

 

He blinks innocently, but I can tell he's playing dumb. He doesn't make any moves against me, though, just turning around and going back to his chair.

 

Weird.

 

I look over my shoulder at him as I open the door to my room, then close the door behind me and lock it, just to be safe.

 

**-Dan-**

 

I must have fallen asleep in the chair, because when I open my eyes, it's morning and I haven't moved.

 

I can hear Jack and Arin moving around in the front room already, and I can smell more fish being cooked, so I follow my nose into the kitchen, feeling hungry.

 

“Hi, Dan!” Jack says cheerily. Arin, who’s sitting at the table with a glass of water and a bowl of cereal, casts me a side glare and says nothing.

 

Jack is standing at the stove, frying a fish filet and humming to himself. “Go ahead and sit down, get some water, make yourself comfortable,” he tells me. “Your fish will be done in a minute, okay?”

 

I nod, taking a seat across from Arin. He doesn’t look at me as he eats his cereal and scrolls through his phone. I’m not sure why he’s so weird around me, but then again, it’s not really normal to find a random mute guy on a beach. So can I really blame him?

 

Jack continues humming as he sets down a plate with the fish filet and some lemon in front of me. “Bain sult as do bhia!” he tells me--“Enjoy your food” in Irish. Arin looks up at him, one eyebrow raised, and Jack winks coyly.

 

I snort in amusement; he probably thinks Jack just said something about him. Arin glares at me again, clearly annoyed, so I stifle my laughter and start eating the fish.

 

“Good thing I’m leaving tomorrow,” he mutters.

 

I stop mid-chew and look up at him, confused.

 

“Arin is a photographer,” Jack says to me. “He’s going back to the States tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll miss us a lot, right, Arin?”

 

Arin rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.”

 

We all sit in silence for a while, then Jack says, “Hey, would you by any chance want to take Dan with you?”

 

Arin almost spits out his cereal. “No!”

 

Jack frowns. “Why not?”

 

“He’s a complete stranger!! Why would I take him with me?”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t necessarily have to take him to the States,” Jack says. “Just take him with you in your boat to Ireland.”

 

“Again:  _ why _ ?”

 

Jack shrugs. “Not like there’s much for him to do here, so...why not just give him a chance to go to a place that’s a bit bigger than Inisheer?”

 

Arin stares at him for a long moment, then sighs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Sure. Whatever. I’ll take him with me in the boat.”

 

“I’m glad to see you’re not always such a grump,” Jack says with a smile. Arin gives him a look, then sighs and keeps eating his cereal.

 

Jack turns around to clean up the stove, and it's clear that nobody is talking anymore, so I just eat my fish in silence as well.

 

Not like I have much of a choice.

 

***

 

After breakfast, I decide I've had enough of staring at the ocean through a pane of glass and I make my way down to the beach.

 

I keep my seal pelt in my hands as I gaze at the water, not entirely sure what I'm looking for, if anything. 

 

Maybe just a sign that somebody regrets driving me ashore.

 

Maybe I'm just a bit homesick.

 

I'm not even entirely sure why I was banished. Probably because of my tendency to trust humans, if I had to guess; something the selkies around here consider a weak trait. Maybe my clan thought I just wouldn't survive if they allowed me to stay.

 

All I know is that one minute, I was swimming with my friends, and the next, I was being pushed to the shore and left there.

 

I sit down on the sand, watching the waves for any sign of my fellow selkies, and unsurprisingly, I see nothing but water and sea plants.

 

I could go back, technically. I could just slip on my seal pelt and go home. But I doubt I'd be welcomed back.

 

In my clan, there's no room for those without a fear of humans, and if I went back, I bet I'd have more to contend with than being pushed ashore.

 

I guess I didn't know that before.


	7. When Dan Met Ross...

**-Ross-**

 

“Who are you?” I ask, looking at the strange curly-haired man who just sat down next to my easel and I.

 

He looks up at me, eyes wide like he didn't notice me here. He points to his throat and shakes his head.

 

“You can't talk?” I ask.

 

He shakes his head again.

 

“Oh. I'm Ross.”

 

A nod from Strange Curly-Haired Man, then he starts drawing something in the sand.

 

“Dan?” I read.

 

Another nod.

 

“Hi.”

 

Dan waves.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Dan,” I say. “Why are you out here?”

 

He hesitates a bit, then shrugs and gestures widely to the water. Then he looks to me.

 

“I've been out here for two days,” I say. “To paint.”

 

Dan looks confused, but shrugs again to himself and looks out at the ocean.

 

I just keep painting.

 

***

 

Dan and I walk back to Jack’s inn together after a few hours.

 

When we walk through the door, Jack already has dinner cooking, Barry is playing Solitaire, and Arin is...playing chess by himself.

 

“There's games that more than one person can play at a time, y’know,” I tell them, closing the front door behind me.

 

“Okay,” Arin says, completely ignoring everything I just said.

 

Barry just makes a vaguely affirmative noise, watching his cards intently. I'm not even sure he knows how to play Solitaire.

 

“Hey, when did Dan get here?” I ask. “I've never seen him around before.”

 

“Arin found him on the beach the other day,” Jack says. “Nobody really knows where he's from.”

 

Dan shrugs like he doesn't know where he's from, either.

 

“...Interesting,” I say. “So…you got any criminal records, or…?”

 

Dan shakes his head.

 

“Oh. Any ID?”

 

Another head shake.

 

I look at Jack, puzzled. “So you just...found him on the beach and decided to bring him here? No knowledge of his background, no ID, can't talk….”

 

“FINALLY, someone understands my point of view!” Arin says, clearly exasperated.

 

Jack sighs. “Well, I had an empty room here, and it is an  _ inn _ after all. Open to the public. So I figured I'd help him out.”

 

He takes something out of the oven. “Hope you guys like shepherd’s pie,” he says, setting it down on the table in between Arin and Barry. “...Slightly burnt shepherd’s pie, that is.”

 

“I'm not hungry,” Barry says, still staring at his cards. I seriously don't think he knows what he's doing. He hasn't moved for like five minutes.

 

“Your loss,” Jack says, starting to scoop the slightly burnt shepherd’s pie onto a few plates.

 

I glance over at Dan, who's watching Arin play chess against himself. Arin doesn't seem to mind, just focusing on the board.

 

I decide to take my pie to my room and binge watch The Office the whole night.

 


	8. Arin's Leaving

**-Arin-**

 

I finish packing up my stuff in the morning, a bit of a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. I don't have a single good photo. I blame the island, because absolutely nothing  _ remotely  _ interesting has happened for the entire week I've been here besides finding Dan, but I don't think my superiors would really listen to me if I said that. I don't even have a photo of a seagull.

 

I go into the kitchen/lobby, where Dan and Jack are waiting for me. Barry and Ross already bid me farewell yesterday.

 

Dan has that same weird pelt thing wrapped around his shoulders like some sort of cape, along with a normal shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any bags with him, which isn't much of a surprise.

 

“Be safe out there!” Jack says, looking a bit worried. “The water’s choppy today, and there's supposed to be a storm later, and you're just going in that little motorboat…”

 

“We’ll be fine,” I assure him, heading towards the front door.

 

He doesn't look very comforted, but nods nonetheless and helps me open the door. “Be safe,” he calls as Dan and I walk outside.

 

Dan waves at him, then follows me down to the docks.

 

It's a pretty nice day, really. It's not very windy and the water looks fairly calm, so I don't know what Jack was talking about.

 

The boat I rented is just where I left it, tied up and bobbing gently in the water. “Here, get in the front,” I tell Dan, gesturing to the boat.

 

I toss my luggage into the boat as Dan shakily climbs in, and then I get in the back and start untying the boat from the dock.

 

“Have you ever been to Britain?” I ask as I try starting the engine.

 

Dan shakes his head ‘no’.

 

“Oh.”

 

The engine revs to life, and I back out into the open water, putting the rope into the boat and starting to speed off towards Ireland.

 

“It’s gonna be a while from here to Carraroe,” I tell Dan. “We’ll take a bus once we get to shore. The whole trip should take about three hours or so.”

 

I sigh internally at the thought of having to spend any time more than twenty minutes in complete silence with a guy I hardly know, but I decide to suck it up for now.

 

After today, I won’t have to see him again, and I’ll be home by tomorrow.


	9. Shipwrecked

**-Dan-**

 

It’s been about an hour since we left.

 

Arin is saying something to me, but I’m not really listening. All I can focus on is the ocean. I keep expecting to see...something. Anything. Anything except just empty water.

 

I know that it’s not empty, but I don’t like the feeling of unfamiliarity that I have with my home in this form. Nor the vulnerability. I’ve never been in a boat before. I’ve seen them, sure, but I’ve never been in one. It’s...weird.

 

I don’t like it.

 

“...and then he’ll probably be like, ‘See, Arin? Jeff managed to take pictures of an active volcano. What did you get a photo of? PLANTS. Not even interesting plants. It’s just tall grass.’ I’ll probably be fired. It’s not even my...are you listening?”

 

I look over at Arin, having no clue what he was just talking about. I nod anyway, to be polite.

 

“Anyway, I just think that Jeff really isn’t as great as he makes himself out to be, and…”

 

I tune him out again, watching the waves next to the boat. The sky is a bit gray, and the boat keeps going over increasingly larger waves as we move farther away from land. Arin is, of course, oblivious to the gradual change in weather, and is apparently very passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. His face is kind of red.

 

I’m about to give him a glare that tells him to shut up and focus on the weather, when the boat suddenly stops and lurches forward violently. I’m thrown out of the boat completely and onto something hard and coarse, and something hits my head.

 

I feel a splitting pain in my skull, and then everything goes dark.

 

***

 

When I wake up, it’s to a cold drizzle on my skin and pain all over my body.

 

I wince as I try to sit up, arms smarting if I move them too much, too quickly. I’m shivering, and I can see bruises and small cuts all over my arms. My head is throbbing rhythmically with influxes of sharp pain, and I can feel something weighing part of my hair down.

 

I reach up to investigate and flinch when my fingers brush against a wound on my head. My hand comes away slightly bloody, and about a foot away from me, I can see a broken camera, the silver corner streaked with a bit of dried blood.

 

So that’s what hit me in the head, then.

 

I wait a moment for the ringing in my ears to die down, and then look around.

 

I’m on a large rock, about fifteen feet across. The boat is stuck halfway in the water, halfway out, with the front end submerged and the back end hooked to the rock by the completely broken engine.

 

Arin is passed out a few feet away from me. His right leg looks pretty busted up, with purple bruises all over it, and it’s at an odd angle. There’s a few shallow wounds all over his arms, too, but otherwise, he looks okay. He’s breathing, at least.

 

The sky is a dark gray above us, and it’s raining. Not heavily, but I’m afraid it might get worse later on. The waves are fairly subdued right now.

 

Cautiously, I manage to crawl over to Arin’s side, taking care not to slip on the wet rock.

 

Yep, he’s definitely breathing. His leg looks terrible, though, but I’m not sure how to fix it, or if I even could fix it.

 

I look out over the water. I can’t see land on either side of me, so it’s a fair bet that we’re pretty far away from help.

 

There’s a flash, and thunder cracks above us. Arin’s eyes open quickly and he gasps, yelling something incoherently.

 

I jump back, startled, and he sits up. He grimaces, crying out in pain and staring down at his injured leg.

 

“What the fuck??” he says, voice strained and a bit wheezy. “W...what happened?”

 

I shake my head; I know as much as he does.

 

He shakily touches his leg, then cries out again, yanking his hand away like he touched fire. “I-I think it’s broken,” he says. “I don’t...oh, my God…”

 

Another flash, and another clap of thunder. The rain gets a bit worse.

 

I look over at the totaled boat, and he follows my gaze. “Oh, no,” he says, voicing my thoughts. “We...w-we’re stuck out here.”

 

He turns his attention back to himself, and starts patting at his pockets. He pulls out his phone and tries turning it on, but he’s met with a blank screen.

 

“Shit,” he whispers, trying again and again to turn it on but with no luck. “We’re...I can’t...w-what’s…”

 

I put a hand on his shoulder to try and reassure him, but he bats it away immediately. “Don’t t-touch me,” he snaps. “This is probably your fault, somehow.”

 

I stare at him in disbelief.

 

“If...if you hadn’t been here t-then I could’ve seen the rock behind you,” he continues. I frown at him, knowing full well that if he hadn’t been  _ talking  _ so much, he could’ve paid attention to the water and seen it.

 

I shy away from him, claiming a small portion of the rock and wrapping my pelt around my shoulders more. It keeps me a bit more warm than if I wouldn’t have had it, but I’m still pretty cold...and hungry, too, I realize.

 

Arin’s stuck where he is, and he’s bemoaning the rain and the fact that his phone’s waterlogged. I wonder if he realizes that nobody’s listening to him.

 

Another clap of thunder makes him stop yelling at nothing, and he wraps his arms around himself with a whimper, staying silent for the next five hours.


	10. Dan Gets Bored and Goes Fishing

**-Arin-**

It stops raining at what I’m guessing is 10:00 at night. I can barely see, it’s so dark, and there’s no stars, so it’s still cloudy.

 

Dan’s been ignoring me for a while, and I...well, I’d probably be ignoring me, too, if I were him.

 

There’s no land in sight anywhere, and even if there was, there’d be no way to get to it. The boat’s engine is ruined, and the boat itself is half-submerged. Plus, my leg is probably broken, or twisted, or something, and I really highly doubt I’d be able to stand on it for more than five seconds.

 

The wind’s been picking up a little for the past two hours or so. It’s whipping the waves up a bit, at least, and in turn making the rock really slippery. I don’t think I’d trust myself to walk on it even if my leg was healed.

 

“How long do you think w-we’ll be here?” I ask him.

 

He looks over at me and shrugs, then looks away again.

 

I sigh, not knowing why I expected anything else, and go back to being cold and miserable.

 

**-Dan-**

 

I don't get much sleep, waking up several times before it’s finally morning.

 

It's still cloudy when I wake up, which isn't much of a surprise, but it's not raining and the wind isn't strong. It's still fairly cold, though, and I'm still pretty hungry.

 

I could, technically, go out and hunt for something before Arin wakes up, but I run the risk of being noticed by my clan, and also, Arin might panic if he wakes up alone. So I decide against it.

 

I look over at Arin to see how he's doing, and to my surprise, he's already up. He's staring out at the direction Inisheer should be in, like he's waiting for something.

 

I clear my throat to get his attention and point to where he was looking.

 

“I was watching for boats,” he says, sounding tired. “I didn't really sleep last night, so I...figured I would do something useful.” He sighs. “I haven't seen anything so far.”

 

I make my way over to him and sit down next to him.

 

“Can I ask you something?” he says. I nod.

 

“Why do you always have that pelt with you?”

 

I pause, wondering how I can answer that or if I even should. I take it off of my shoulders and hold it, observing the silvery, speckled fur.

 

“N...never mind,” Arin says after a minute. “I...forgot you can't talk.”

 

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, then he says, “Listen, in case we die out here, I'm sorry for how I acted towards you. You seem...pretty okay, I guess. It was just weird, y’know, finding a random guy on the beach, and...I was in a bad mood to begin with...so...I'm sorry.”

 

I look over at him and pat him on the shoulder in a gesture I hope he takes as ‘It's okay’.

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

***

 

A few hours pass, and there’s still no sign of any boats coming for us.

 

Arin’s leg looks worse as more time goes on. It’s still at an odd angle, and he can’t move it. I wish I knew how to help him.

 

He manages to get a little bit of sleep at around 3 in the afternoon, but then is woken up by the rain starting again, a bit worse than before. There’s no thunder, and the wind isn’t too bad, but the rain is relentless.

 

And cold.

 

I take off my pelt and put it around Arin’s shoulders, figuring that it’ll keep him a little bit warmer. “Thank you,” he says quietly, tugging it around his arms.

 

I nod and give him a small smile, even though I’m cold myself.

 

“Do you think anyone will find us?” Arin asks.

 

I shrug a little, really not knowing.

 

He sighs softly and closes his eyes, leaning against my shoulder and falling asleep.

 

***

 

Eventually, I decide I’ve had enough of waiting around and doing nothing, and gently take the pelt off of Arin’s shoulders once the rain’s let up. I lay him down on the rock, careful to keep him away from the waves (and not wake him up).

 

I crouch at the edge of the rock, wrap the pelt around myself, take a breath, and dive into the water.

 

For a brief second, I flounder a bit, not sure how to swim as a human and almost afraid that the pelt won’t work. But then I feel a familiar warmth wrap around me, and I calm down, steadily feeling as though I’m home.

 

I don’t go back towards my clan’s waters, because I know that that wouldn’t end well. Instead, I go swimming fairly close to the rock, looking for any small fish.

 

And...bingo.

 

I snatch up the herring in my jaws, and swim up to the surface, near the rock. The rain has lessened again, thankfully, and Arin is awake now. He looks very upset. “Dan?” he calls, a worried expression on his face. He’s looking around, and then he sees me.

 

“Oh, that’s just fantastic,” he mutters. “When I don’t need a picture of a seal, a seal shows up.” Then, louder: “Go away!”

 

I, obviously, don’t listen to him, and jump onto the rock, setting down the fish. Arin watches me warily.

 

I slip out of my seal pelt, a seamless transition to human that even I don’t always realize right away, and look over at Arin.

 

He looks completely shocked, and...kind of terrified. “What the fuck?” he whispers. “What the  _ fuck _ ??”

 

I can’t give an answer, so I pick up and offer him the fish.

 

“I’m not eating--I’m not eating the raw fish!” Arin snaps, recoiling. “How did you--what--what ARE you?”


	11. Selkie Welcome Committees Aren't Very Nice

**-Arin-**

 

I guess Jack was right about the seal people after all.

 

Doesn’t mean I’m willing to accept that I just saw a seal somehow become Dan, though.

 

I don’t even know how to describe it. One second, there was a seal, and then the next...Dan was in its place, with the seal pelt that he always carried with him on the rock next to him, and he had a fish, and…

 

He’s looking at me, almost sadly.

 

“Are you one of the...selkies...that Jack was talking about?” I ask.

 

Dan nods.

 

“Am I...asleep?” I venture, really, really hoping that I am and that this is just a weird dream.

 

Dan hesitates, then shakes his head.

 

I press my palm to my forehead shakily. “Oh, my God. I think I’m going to pass out.”

 

**-Dan-**

 

Arin passes out.

 

I manage to catch him before he hits the rock and hurts his head, and I set him down again, starting to fret over what to do.

 

A glance up at the sky lets me know that a third round of rain is coming, and that the sun is going to set soon.

 

I pick up my pelt and wrap it around myself again, setting my sights towards Inisheer. Jack probably has a boat, and if I can let him know where Arin is, he can come rescue him.

 

...But I’ll need to pass through my old home first.

 

***

 

Even going as fast as I can, I’m nowhere near as fast as the boat was, so it’ll probably take me much longer to get to Inisheer than it would have if I’d had a boat. Nonetheless, I’m not stopping for anything but air until I get there.

 

There’s no denying it; I’m at home in the ocean. On land, in my human form, I feel so much clumsier, so much more vulnerable. But in the water...I’m in my element, as it were.

 

As I surface to take a quick breath, I can see Inisheer coming into view. I’ve probably been swimming for an hour and a half without interruption, and I’m making good progress. At least, I can’t see the rock Arin’s on anymore.

 

I hope he’s okay.

 

I dive under again, continuing forward, and everything goes smoothly until I’m suddenly rammed in the side.

 

The air is knocked out of my lungs and I’m disoriented for a moment, not sure which way is up or down. Another hit to the side, and then I feel teeth clamp down into one of my fins.

 

I manage to break free after a brief time of struggling, and I whirl around to face my attacker.

 

It’s none other than one of my own. I don’t remember their name, but they’re clearly not pleased with me coming back. They bare their teeth in a snarl and lunge for me again, but I manage to dodge and start swimming away from them as fast as I can.

 

I know they’re following me, but they’re slower than I am. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but I’m wary now. They know I’m here. I’m not even that close to the island yet, and they’re already--

 

_ Oof _ . Something rams me in the stomach and, once again, I’m stunned briefly. Then I feel the jaws on my fin again, and I can smell blood in the water. My blood.

 

I thrash around, feeling the teeth dig more into my skin, but eventually they let go and I’m swimming again. Each stroke sends pain through my muscles, but I try to go as fast as possible. I’m just hoping that I don’t get attacked a third time.

 

Then, of course, I’m hit from above, and at this point I’ve had enough. I whip around, snarling, and snap at the third attacker. I don’t recognize them, but it clearly startles them enough that they back off for the time being.

 

The other two rush forward and try biting at me again, but I manage to dive down fast enough that they miss me. I snarl again, just plain pissed off now, and they snarl back, equally pissed off.

 

I lunge at one of them, I don’t know which, and bite at their front fins. I manage to grab one, and I taste copper.

 

I’m pulled away by the two others, and I bare my teeth at them, trying to make myself look as intimidating as possible...which isn’t really very intimidating.

 

Before any of them can lunge at me again, I dart off as fast as I can, scanning my surroundings to make sure there’s no more surprise attacks waiting for me.

 

I surface very briefly for air, see that I’m not too far from Inisheer, and feel a surge of motivation. The three who jumped me are still following me, and I can still smell blood in the water, although this time it’s not just mine.

 

I think I may have made them hesitate. They know I’m going to fight them if they attack again, and yet they’re still following me. Stubborn idiots.

 

They don’t make any moves for another thirty minutes or so, just trailing me, maybe waiting to see if I’ll turn back. When it’s clear that I’m not going to, the largest one darts forward before I can react and aims a clever blow to my head wound.

 

I yelp in pain, and they take it as an opportunity, putting as much pressure as they can to that one spot on my head. My vision blurs around the edges, and I fear blacking out, but I manage to gather enough strength to swim downwards and hit them in the jaw with my tail fin as I do so. Before they can chase me, I swim upwards again and bite down on their muzzle, and it manages to stun them briefly.

 

Once more, I dart away, this time putting all of my energy into just making it to the shore. I’m close, so close--

 

I jump out of the water, changing to my human form as fast as possible and scrambling to high ground, making sure I have my pelt with me. I’m bleeding, from the wound on my head and the new bite marks, but I pay no attention to it for now and just start to stumble towards Jack’s inn, hoping he’s there and hoping he has a boat.


	12. An Deireadh an Scéal

-Jack-

Somebody is knocking furiously at the door.

When I go to answer it, surprise--it’s Dan.

But really, really beat up.

“What happened to you?” I exclaim, ushering him in. He seems frantic. A thin line of blood is trickling down from somewhere on his head, and one of his hands is bleeding too, from what looks like...a bite mark?

Dan just gestures to his pelt and then grabs my wrist, trying to tug me out the door.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” I say, planting my feet firmly on the ground. He looks at me, exasperated. “I need an explanation.”

He stares at me blankly, then grabs a nearby piece of paper and glares at me, holding out his non-injured hand like he wants something.

I grab a pen and hand it to him, and he starts writing something down furiously. After a minute or so, he hands me the paper, which says, really messily: “Boat got wrecked, Arin alone, I had to swim here, needs help!”

“You got wrecked??” I ask. Dan nods, not making an effort to hide his annoyance with my questions. “I...I think Barry has a boat. I’ll go find him, and...just stay here, Dan. Try cleaning those cuts of yours. I’ll be back in ten minutes, okay?”

Dan hesitates, then nods again, his annoyance being replaced by a pain-stricken look.

“Okay. Ten minutes!” I say, already heading out the door. “I promise.”

***

And, within ten minutes, Barry and I are both in a motorboat, following Dan to where Arin is apparently waiting for us.

Dan insisted to be in his seal form to lead us there, and also insisted he would be okay because he’s the only one of his ‘clan’ that isn’t afraid of boats, or humans in general. I can barely see him as he swims in front of us, a shadowy shape under the water.

Barry wasn’t as surprised when he found out what Dan was as I thought he would be. “Turns out your grandma wasn’t wrong, then, huh?” he says, sitting behind me and piloting the boat.

“Guess not,” I reply.

***

It takes about an hour and a half to get to the rock, but when we do, we find a pale, shivering Arin staring at us in shock.

“Where’s Dan?” he asks as soon as we get within earshot. “Is--is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him, stepping out of the boat to try and help him onboard. “He was swimming in front of us this whole time...I don’t know where he is now.”

“...Oh…” Arin says softly. “Okay.”

I notice that Arin’s leg is pretty beat up, so Barry and I both have to act as crutches for him.

We help him into the boat, and then Barry is steering us off to Inisheer again.

“What happened?” I ask Arin. Gone is the Arin I saw when he first arrived: arrogant, cynical, and basically just salty. Now, he seems quiet and reserved, and a bit...sad.

“I wasn’t paying attention to the water,” Arin says. “I...the boat just collided with the rock, man, I don’t know. Dan and I both blacked out...when we woke up, or when I woke up at least, my leg was like, broken, or something, and...Dan looked pretty beat up, too. We were there for maybe...a day and a half, or two days, and then...Dan went off and caught a fish, I guess? I blacked out again, I thought it was a dream...then when I woke up again, he was gone, and...it was about fifty minutes before you guys came.”

He puts his head in his hands. “I thought I was going to die on that rock,” he says. “You...you have no idea how grateful I am to you guys.”

“Don’t thank us, thank Dan,” I say. He looks at me, a bit confused, and then I remember that I don’t actually know where Dan went.

“...You’re welcome,” Barry says for me.

The rest of the trip is made in silence.

***

When we get back to the island, Barry and I both manage to help Arin back to my inn, and I try to help fix his leg as much as I can. Turns out, it wasn’t broken, just a sprain and some bruises.

Arin stays on Inisheer for another two weeks, resting and generally being the complete opposite of the person he was when he got here, and during those two weeks, there’s no sign of Dan.

I tell Arin that Dan looked pretty bad when I saw him last, but it doesn’t serve to help Arin much. “I just wish I could thank him,” he says quietly. “He didn’t have to go all that way to help me. He could have just left me.”

“But he didn’t,” I say. “And if he really wanted thanks, don’t you think he would’ve stayed?”

“Maybe,” Arin says. “I don’t...I don’t know. I just want to go home.”

***

A month after he came here, Arin is leaving.

He lost most of his stuff in the ocean, so he’s traveling pretty light. I make a witty joke about this. He doesn’t laugh.

This time, instead of taking a motorboat, Arin’s taking an actual ferry, with an actual boat captain. “Smart choice,” I tell him.

“After this, I don’t want to go on another boat again in my life,” he replies.

***

Barry knocks on the front door just as Arin is about to leave.

“Yeah?” I ask, seeing an odd expression on his face.

“It’s Dan,” Barry says, panting--I guess he was running. “He’s...he’s on the beach. I think he wants to see Arin.”

-Arin-

I almost don’t believe that Dan came back, but I guess he did. He’s standing right in front of me, after all.

“Listen,” I say. “I...I know we only knew each other for, like, a week, but...I just...I just wanted to say thank you for saving my life, and...I owe you so much, I--”

Dan steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug.

It was so unexpected, I don’t know how to react. “Why are you hugging me? I was nothing but awful to you for most of the time I knew you. I know I apologized, but still…”

He smiles a bit at me and shrugs.

“Are you...are you coming with me again?” I ask. “In the ferry? To Ireland?”

Dan’s smile fades, and he steps back a little. After a moment, he shakes his head.

“Why...why not?”

He points to his left, which is inland, then points to himself, and shakes his head. Then he points to the water, points to himself, and nods.

“So you really are...a selkie, then?” I ask. I need to make sure I didn’t dream everything that happened, that I’m remembering it right.

Dan nods, and tugs a little bit on the pelt that’s still wrapped around his shoulders.

“...Wow.” That’s all I can say. Just, “Wow. Okay, then.”

I look at him now, hoping that he understands how much I mean the next words I say.

“Thank you, Dan. For...for saving me. And...for maybe making me a better person.” I pause. “W-will I ever see you again?”

Dan sighs softly and shrugs, shaking his head at the same time. I take it to mean, ‘Probably not.’

“In case I don’t, I...can I have another hug?” I ask. “I have so many questions, but I mean...you can’t talk, and you probably have places to be, so can I just...have another hug?”

Dan hugs me again, and I notice this time that he smells like the ocean, a bit salty and a bit like the breeze and a bit...indescribable.

“I’m going to miss you,” I say quietly.

I feel a small weight get placed into my palm, then Dan backs away a step again, and smiles gently.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” I say. He nods, and turns to head down to the water. I watch him go, my feelings like the sea--indescribable--and before he steps into the water, he gives me a little wave.

I wave back, and then, just like that, he’s gone beneath the waves.

I look down at the hand with the weight, and find a seashell in my palm, the kind that you can hear the ocean in if you put it up to your ear. I guess it’s a souvenir of sorts, a keepsake that tells me that I didn’t just dream this whole trip up.

“Arin!” Jack calls from behind me. “Are you ready? The ferry’s leaving!”

“Coming!” I yell back.

I put the seashell into my pocket and make my way over to the docks, still not quite sure what happened over the past month but knowing that it will be quite the story when I get back home.


End file.
